Du Chaillu Paul Belloni
Lost in the Jungle; Narrated for Young People
CHAPTER XXI
LEAVE FOR ASHIRA LAND. – IN A SWAMP. – CROSS THE MOUNTAINS. – A LEOPARD AFTER US. – REACH THE ASHIRA COUNTRY.
Early on that morning of my departure for the Ashira Land we were awakened by the voice of friend Obindji, who was recommending Okendjo to take great care of his "white man," and see that nothing should hurt him.
We were soon under way, and, leaving the Ovenga, ascended the Ofoubou River for three miles and a half, when we unloaded our canoes. Then we struck off due east.
We had very great trouble in getting through the marshy lands which border the river, for they were overflowed to the very foot of the hills.
This was about as hard a piece of traveling as I ever had in my life. The water was so yellow that I could not see to the bottom, which was slimy clay, covering the roots of trees.
I hardly entered the swamp before down I seated myself in a manner I did not like at all. I barely saved my gun from going to the bottom. My foot had slipped on a root. Then I went tottering along, getting hold of all the branches or trees I could reach, at the same time saying to myself that I did not see the use of such a country.
I was in water from my knees to my waist; below my knees I was in mud. I felt warm enough, for at every step I would go deeper into the sticky mud, and it was difficult to get my feet out again. I took good care to have Okendjo and two or three fellows go ahead of me. They had no clothes, and if they tumbled into the water I did not care; they were not long in drying off.
Finally we got through, and stood at the foot of a mountain ridge along which, we may say, lay the route leading to Ashira Land. Here we gave three cheers, and with cheery hopes I started once more for a terra incognita.
We are lost in the jungle. Under the tall trees a dense jungle covers the ground; lianas hang gracefully from the limbs and trunks of trees. Many of them are covered with flowers. Now and then, huge blocks of quartz rocks are met with. We go along slowly, for we are tired.
Okendjo says that soon we shall reach the promised land, where goats, fowls, plantain, and palm wine are plentiful.
Mountain after mountain had to be ascended. Oh, how hard we worked! How we panted after reaching the summit of a hill. How beautiful were the rivulets, they were so pure, so cool, so nice; their crystalline water rolled in every direction, tumbling over the rocks in foaming cascades, or purling along in a bed of white pebbles. Oh how much they reminded me of the hill-streams and trout-brooks of home; for if the trees I saw had not the foliage of our trees at home, the stones were the same. The quartz was similar. Nature there, at least, was alike. The rocks were of the same formation.
I felt well and happy. I was on my way to discover new lands, new rivers, new mountains, and new beasts and birds. I was to see new tribes of men whom I had never seen before.
So I trotted along, Okendjo, Adouma, and I leading the way. By-and-by the country became still more rugged. The blocks of quartz we met were of larger size, and soon our path led us in the midst of huge masses of stones. How queer and small we looked as our caravan filed, one by one, between the ponderous blocks! We looked exactly like pigmies alongside of the huge boulders.
Quite near us were some large ebony-trees; how beautiful their foliage looked, contrasting with the blocks of quartz and granite, some of which were covered with mosses, and others perfectly bare. What could have brought these huge boulders on those mountains? I should not wonder if glaciers had accomplished it in ages that are past. The more rocky the soil, the better ebony-trees appeared to flourish.
How hard the walking was! In many places the rains had washed away the soil from the immense and wide-spreading roots, which ran along the ground like huge serpents – indeed, many of them were just like big boa constrictors.
My feet were so sore by walking on those roots, or rather by stepping from one to another, for I was obliged to wear thin-soled shoes, so that I might bend my feet to seize the roots. If I had worn thick shoes I should have tumbled down at the first jump.
Just before sunset we stopped, and I ordered the camp to be built, the fire-wood to be collected for the night. There were no large leaves to be found, so we all hoped that no rain or tornado would come that night.
We all made beds of such leaves as were to be found; for myself, I put two mats on the top, and lighted, as usual, four fires round me to keep off the wild beasts.
The Bakalai built a camp for themselves, the Ashira built another, and my own was between the two. I lay down, feeling very tired, and prayed to God to take care of me. For a pillow I used the belt which held my revolvers, and taking one of my guns in my arms, I went to sleep.
Toward one o'clock in the morning I was awakened by the loud roaring of a leopard which was prowling round our camp. He had smelled human flesh; probably he had tasted it before, but he dared not approach very close, for the fires were bright and the men awake. He was afraid of the bright light, and his howls testified how enraged he was. He was, no doubt, hungry, but his cowardice kept him back. I ordered some guns to be fired at random in the direction where we heard his growls.
For a while the forest became silent, and the leopard went off. We thought we had frightened him; but, just as we were on the point of going to sleep once more, suddenly the roaring began again, and this time the beast had come nearer. He wanted, no doubt, to make his breakfast upon one of us; but his desires were not to be gratified. I felt mad, as I wanted to sleep, for the next day was to be one of hard traveling.
If I had dared, I would have ventured into the forest after the beast; but the risk was too great, it was so dark. The leopard would have done, no doubt, as cats do, lain flat on the ground and waited for his prey, and pounced upon me as the smaller animal would do upon a mouse. So, as the roars of the beast continued, we concluded to keep awake, first putting more wood on our fires.
The loads we had carried since leaving Obindji had been very heavy, and the sore backs of the men began to show that they had hard work. I was loaded as well as any of them, with powder, shot, my own food, bullets for my gun and my revolvers, which I carried in my belt, an extra pair of pantaloons, shoes, etc., etc.
Resuming our journey next morning, I discovered that the fellows had either been eating lots of plantains, or perhaps slyly throwing away a quantity of them, in order to be relieved of the burden. I warned them that if we were short of food they would have to starve first.
They replied, "There are plenty of nuts in the forest – there are plenty of berries in the forest; we can stand being a day without food!"
Toward the evening of that day we began to see signs of a change in the face of the country. Now and then we would pass immense plantations of plantains, the trees loaded with fruit. We came at last to one which gorillas had visited and made short work of, having demolished lots of trees, which lay scattered right and left. Elephants had also made sad havoc in some of the plantations. Then we came across patches of sugar-cane. These plantations were scattered in the great forest, and grew in the midst of innumerable trunks and dead branches of trees that had been cut down.
The soil became more clayey, and at last we emerged from the immense forest. I saw, spread out before me, a new country, the like of which I had not seen since I had been lost in the great equatorial jungle. It was Ashira Land. The prairies were dotted plentifully with villages, which looked in the distance like ant-hills.
CHAPTER XXII
GREAT MOUNTAINS. – ASHIRA LAND IS BEAUTIFUL. – THE PEOPLE ARE AFRAID. – REACH AKOONGA'S VILLAGE. – KING OLENDA SENDS MESSENGERS AND PRESENTS. – I REACH OLENDA'S VILLAGE.
What a beautiful country! How lovely the grass seemed to me! How sweet it was to see an open space!
"Where are we?" cried I to my Okendjo men.
They answered, in Ashira Land – Otobi (prairie). It seemed to me that they should have replied in Fairyland, as I had been so long shut up in the dark forest.
I stood for a long time on a bluff just on the border of the forest. On the left, in the far distance, loomed up mountains higher than any I had yet seen. They looked very beautiful against the blue sky. These mountains were called Nkoumou-Nabouali. No one had ever been on their summit. On the right, in the distance also, were mountains, but not so lofty, called Ofoubou-Orèrè and Andelè, and in front of my position were still other mountains called Okoukoué.
All over the prairies villages were scattered, and the hills and valleys were streaked with ribbon-like paths, while here and there my eye caught the silver sheen of a brook winding along through the undulating land. I could also see groves of banana and plantain trees, with their leaves so large and beautiful. There were likewise plantations of cassada and peanuts.
The setting sun shone over the landscape, and the tall green grass reminded me of home, and my heart at once went over the sea. Do not think that I was without feeling because I went to Africa and left civilization – that I never thought of friends. There were girls and boys of whom I thought almost every day, and whom I loved dearly.
"Fire a gun," said Okendjo; "fire, Moguizi, so that my people may know you by the thunder you carry in your hand, and that Okendjo brings them a moguizi."
The good fellow was in a high state of excitement. Adouma was nowhere. I loaded my guns with heavy charges, and fired, bang! bang! bang! Immediately I could see the people running out of their villages; they seemed in the distance like pigmies; they shouted, and were, perhaps, just a little frightened as they ran to and fro. They had seen the smoke and heard the noise, and soon they saw me. Okendjo had sent guides to tell the people not to be afraid; besides, my fame had gone before me, for many of the Ashira had seen me.
We did not long remain motionless, for it was almost dark, and we must hurry. Soon every hill-top was covered with people, but as we passed by they ran away.
Okendjo walked ahead of me, shouting "Ashira! I have brought to you a great and mighty spirit! He is good, and does no harm! Ashira! I am Okendjo."
The crowd shouted in reply, "The ntangani has come! The moguizi has come to see our land – our land which he never saw before. Moguizi, we will give you plenty to eat! Moguizi, do us no harm! Oh, Moguizi!" Then they sung songs, and the idols were brought out, so that they might see the moguizi that had come. The drums beat, but, as I have said, when I came near, the people ran away, leaving their idols behind to look at me.
Indeed, the Ashira Land was a strange country.
We soon came to a village, the chief of which was Okendjo's brother; his name was Akoonga. He was at the gate of the village, and trembled with fear, but he had come to welcome me.
"Am I tipsy with plantain wine? Do tell me, Okendjo, if I see aright, or is it a hallucination of my mind? Have I not before me the spirit who makes the guns, the beads, the brass rods, and the copper rings?
"Do I see aright when I see that his hair is long, and as black as that of the mondi? when I see that his legs are black, and that he has no toes (I had boots on)? that his face is of a color I never saw? Do tell me – tell me quick, Okendjo, am I drunk?"
Okendjo replied, "He is the spirit of whom you have heard so much, who came into the Bakalai country. He comes from the spirit land to visit us." The people then shouted, "How queer the spirit looks!" My hair was long, very long, and excited their wonder.
Akoonga soon gave me a house. There the chief came, followed by ten of his wives, each bearing two bunches of plantains, which, with fear and trembling, they brought to my feet. Then came four goats, twenty fowls, several baskets of ground-nuts, and many bunches of sugar-cane.
The chief told Okendjo to say to me that he was glad I was to spend the night in his village, and that I was the master of every thing in it.
When night came Okendjo walked from one end of the village to the other, and I heard him say to his people, "Be silent; do not trouble the spirit; do not speak, lest you awake him, and he might awake in anger, and smite you, and make the people of our village die. Neither our forefathers nor ourselves ever saw such a wonder as this."
Next morning immense crowds surrounded the village. They shouted and shouted, and, not to disappoint them, I walked through the street from time to time.
Olenda, the king or head chief of the Ashiras, for whose place I was bound, sent presents of goats and plantains for the spirit by two messengers, and wanted to know if the arrival of the moguizi was true. The king also sent word that I should be carried; for why should the moguizi walk if he is tired?
The messengers went and reported to their king that it was so – a good moguizi had come. Then a great number of men were sent back to carry my baggage, and we left Akoonga's village. The men shouted, and from time to time sung wild songs celebrating my arrival among them. After a walk of ten miles I reached the village of Olenda. Olenda was the great king of the Ashira tribe.
CHAPTER XXIII
KING OLENDA COMES TO RECEIVE ME. – HE IS VERY OLD. – NEVER SAW A MAN SO OLD BEFORE. – HE BEATS HIS KENDO. – HE SALUTES ME WITH HIS KOMBO. – KINGS ALONE CAN WEAR THE KENDO.
Olenda village was situated at the top of a high hill. The people, with the exception of a few, had fled. All were afraid to see the moguizi close by them.
"How could King Olenda run off, when his great friend Quengueza sent him a moguizi?" shouted Okendjo; "the people will return when they see Olenda facing you."
I was led to the onandja, and had scarcely seated myself on a native stool when I heard the sound of the kendo – the king was coming. The kendo was ringing, and no one can possess or ring a kendo but a king. So, at every step the king made the kendo rang, and at last Olenda stood before me.
Never in my life had I seen a man so old; never did I dream that a man could be so old, and I wondered not that his fame had spread far and wide on account of his age. He was a man with wool as white as snow, and his face was a mass of wrinkles. Every rib could be seen, for the skin was like parchment. His body was bent almost double with age, and the legs and arms were like sticks, apparently not bigger than broom-handles. His cheeks were so hollow that the skin seemed to cling to the bones. He had painted with the chalk of the Alumbi his haggard old face, red on one side and white on the other, in streaks, and, as he stood before me, I wondered as much at his appearance as he did at mine. He carried a long stick or cane to support himself. The like I had never seen. He seemed the apparition of some man who had lived in our world a couple of hundred years.
When we had gazed at each other (he looking at me with deep little eyes for at least five minutes, and beating his kendo all the time with his palsied hand), he suddenly spoke and said, "I have no bowels; I am like the Ovenga River – I can not be cut in two. I am also like the Niembai and Ovenga Rivers, which unite together. Thus my body is united, and nothing can divide it."
This gibberish had some deep mystic significance. It was the regular and invariable salutation of the Ashira kings, Olenda's predecessors, time out of mind. Each chief and important person has such a salutation, which they call kombo.
I will explain Olenda's kombo to you. If you had before you a map of the countries I have explored in Equatorial Africa, which are published in my larger works, you would see on it the River Ovenga. Olenda means, when he says that he can not be cut in two and is like the River Ovenga, that his body can not be divided any more than the River Ovenga can be cut in twain. The Niembai and Ovenga unite together and form one river, called Rembo; so, if his body was cut in two, it could not be separated, for, as the two rivers unite and form one, so the two parts of his body would reunite again and form one.
Then he continued, beating his kendo from time to time, "You, the spirit, have come to see Olenda; you, the spirit, have put your feet where none like you have ever been. You are welcome."
Here the old king's son, also a very old negro, with white wool on his head, handed over to the king two slaves, which his majesty formally presented to me, together with three goats, twenty bunches of plantains, twenty fowls, five baskets of ground-nuts, and several bunches of sugar-cane.
"This," said he, "is to salute you. Whatever else you want, tell me. I am the king of this country; I am older than any tree you see around you."
I replied that slaves I did not want, but the food and other presents I would take.
Then more of the old man's children came, all old, and wrinkled, and white-headed men. They stood before me, regarding me with wonder and awe, while the people, of whom thousands were gathered from all the villages of the plain, had returned while their old king was speaking to me. They looked on in silence, and expressed their surprise in whispers.
At last the old king turned to his people and said, "I have seen many things in my life – many wonderful things; but now I am ready to die, for I have received the moguizi spirit, from whom we receive all things. It will always be said in our nation, by those coming after us, that in the time of Olenda the spirit first appeared and dwelt among us. You are welcome (turning to me). Keep this spirit well (to his people); he will do us good."
I was amazed; my eyes could not keep away from Olenda. I knew not that men could become so old.
Then Olenda began to beat his kendo again, invoking the spirits of his ancestors to be with him and his, and, with big body bent double, and supported by his cane, he returned to his hut, ejaculating "Ma-mo, ma-mo, ma-mo!"
The kendo is the symbol of royalty in most of the tribes of this part of the interior of Africa. It is a rude bell of iron, furnished with a long handle, also of iron, and of the same piece, as shown in the engraving. The sound, which at home announces the vicinity of a herd of cows or sheep, in Africa precedes the advent of the sovereign, who uses the kendo only when on visits of state or on business of importance. When not beating it they wear it on the shoulder. The bell may vary from six to eight inches in length, and the handle from twelve to fifteen inches. When they wear the kendo they fill it with a skin, generally of an oshengui, which contains monda, or charms, to keep away the aniemba.
A nice little hut was given to me, and I was soon safely housed in it. One of the chickens given to me by Olenda was killed, and a soup made with it. It was excellent, and did me good.
CHAPTER XXIV
THEY ALL COME TO SEE ME. – THEY SAY I HAVE AN EVIL EYE. – ASHIRA VILLAGES. – OLENDA GIVES A GREAT BALL IN MY HONOR. – BEER-HOUSES. – GOATS COMING OUT OF A MOUNTAIN ALIVE.
Several days have elapsed since my arrival at Olenda. From more than one hundred and fifty villages of the plain, the people streamed to Olenda's town to see "the spirit." They came in the night, slept on the ground outside the town, and in the morning crowded about me, wondering at my hair, at my clothes, at my shoes; declaring that my feet were like elephant's feet, for they did not see the toes; and they would try to get a glance at my eyes. The moment I looked at them they ran off screaming, and especially the women and children. The Africans had a great dread of my look. They believe in the evil eye, and often, when I would look steadily at them, my best friends, with a shudder, would beg me not to do it.
So I may say that since my arrival the time has been devoted to seeing and being seen. And I assure you it was no joke to hear that uproarious crowd and their wild shouts – to have always in my sight a crowd of people yelling at every movement I made.
I had a Yankee clock, which was an object of constant wonder to them. They thought that there was a kind of spirit inside that made the noise, and that watched over me. Its constant ticking, day and night, was noticed, and they had an idea that the noise could never stop. At night of course the sound is louder, and this frightened them, and not one dared to come close to my hut.
Every day Olenda beats his kendo; every day he comes to get a look at me.
This Ashira prairie seemed to be shut in on all sides by mountains, which of course were covered with forest. Fancy the forest a sea of trees, and the Ashira Land an island. Pine-apples grew in great abundance, and thousands and thousands of them were clustered close together, and formed otôbi (prairies) by themselves.
This plain is the finest and most delightful country I had thus far seen in the jungle. The undulations of the prairie, which is a kind of table-land surrounded on every side by high mountains, gave the landscape a charming variety. The surrounding mountains, the splendid peak of the Nkoomoo Nabouali on the north, said by the superstitious Ashiras to be inhabited by satyrs like men; the Andelè and Ofoubou-Orèrè to the south, and the Ococoo to the east, are all covered with dense masses of foliage. In those forests are living tribes of wild men and wilder beasts, roaming at pleasure.
I have arrived in a country where I could see grass, and see distinctly the moon, the stars, and the sun without first being obliged to cut the trees down. Oh, you have no idea how nice it is to see an open space after you have been shut up in the forest for years.
From Olenda's village I made excursions all over the Ashira country. The villages were so numerous I could not count them. There were from one hundred and fifty to two hundred of them. Some were quite small, others were quite large; and what beautiful villages they were. I had not seen such pretty ones before. The houses were small, but the neatest I had met in the jungle. They are built generally in one long street, houses on each side. The streets are kept clean; and this was the first tribe I met where the ground at the back of the houses was also cleared off. In most villages there was, back of the houses, a street where great numbers of plantain-trees and some lime-trees, for they love lemons, were growing. The villages are surrounded by thousands of plantain-trees, and regular footpaths connected one village with another.
Ball after ball was given to me, and one evening Olenda gave me a very fine, big one. More than fifty drums beat, besides there were musicians armed with short sticks, with which they pounded with all their might on pieces of board. The singing was extraordinary, and the Ashira belles cut any amount of capers, one time raising their legs one way, then bending their bodies backward and forward, shaking their heads from one side to the other, kicking their heels together, the iron or brass bracelets or anklets adding to the harmony of the musical instruments I have described to you. The singing was as wild as can be imagined. Olenda's wives – for his majesty was blessed with several scores of them – danced with fury.
They danced all night, and the next morning there was a general stampede to the beer or cider-house. I must tell you that the Ashira are very fond of plantain wine.
I followed, for I wanted to see a beer-house and a general Ashira spree.
After walking for half an hour we came to a cluster of trees, in the centre of which we found a brewery. A few women had charge of the premises – the wives of some of the Ashira.
What a sight presented itself to my view! There hung all round hundreds of large bunches of plantain in different stages of ripening, from the dark green to the bright yellow, hanging from the limbs of trees. There were also some red-skin plantains.
It was a large building, under a single roof, supported by numerous wooden pillars, and on these hung a great many bunches of plantain. In the middle of the building there were scores of large jars, manufactured in the country, some of which would hold ten or fifteen gallons. From the necks of some of them a quantity of rich white froth was running out. The beer in others was just ripe, and ready for drinking. There were also many large mugs, looking more like dishes, however, for the plantain juice to be poured into.
Very soon the men seated themselves, either on the stools that belonged to them or on mats, and the drinking began. Mug after mug was swallowed by each man. I think no German could drink the same amount of liquid. They became, after a while, jolly and boisterous; they began, in fact, to get tipsy.
Do not believe they were drinking at random. Each jug of wine belonged to several men, who had clubbed together; that is to say, each had given a certain amount of plantain to make the beer which the vessel contained.
The plantain with which the beer or wine is made is a kind of banana, much larger and coarser, and used, as you have seen, as food; but it must be cooked, the natives cooking it when it is green. When ripe, it is yellow like the banana.
The beer is made in the following manner: The plantain must be quite ripe; then it is cut in small pieces, which are put into the jar until it is half filled; then the jar is filled with water. After a few days it ferments; then the froth comes out, and the beer is ready for use.
The bunches of plantain, which were hanging by hundreds, had their owners, and had been brought from the plantations by their wives, and were ripening in the shade. As the plantations yield fruit all the year round, the beer is never lacking among the Ashiras.
After they were sufficiently excited, they began to talk of their wonderful warlike exploits, and I do believe it was who should lie the most. The greater the lie, the louder the applause.
I tasted the plantain beer, and found it somewhat sour; I did not like it at all.
I spent the day in the beer-house, and, when we returned to the village, the men insisted on having another dance, and they kept hard at work at it all night, and went all to sleep the next morning. I was glad when every thing was over, for my head began to ache.
I determined to visit the mountains from which the River Ofoubou takes its name. King Olenda was to take charge of my luggage, and I took only a few presents for the Ashira chiefs I was to see, and who had come to see and invite me to visit their towns in the mountains.
One of Olenda's sons was chief of our party, and Adouma, Quengueza's nephew, led with him. We did not start before old King Olenda had told all his people to take great care of the "spirit."
We left the village in the midst of the wildest shouts, and then wended our way through the beautiful green grass. Within a mile and a half south from Olenda we came to the foot of Mount Nchondo, one of the highest points of the prairie. There we all stopped; why, I could not guess.
When one of the Ashiras said to me, pointing to the mountain, "You see that mountain, Moguizi?" "Yes," said I. "From that part of the mountain," continued Oyagui, Olenda's great-grandson, in the most serious manner, "goats come out. That is a great mountain; a spirit lives there. Sometimes, when our people want a goat, they will go there, and a goat will come to them." I said, "That can not be." "Yes," insisted Oyagui, "I know plenty of people who get goats there."
Then we passed by numerous villages, skirting most of the hills at their base, and crowds of people every where cried out, "The moguizi is coming! the moguizi is coming!"
All these villages were surrounded by groves of plantain and banana trees.
After a journey of about ten miles, we came, at the foot of the cloud-capped Mount Andelè, to the village of Mouendi, whose chief, Mandji, came forth with great joy to meet me, for he was a great friend of Adouma. He sang, as he came forward with his people, "It is good that the moguizi comes to see our town."
To the rear of the village, on the slope of the mountain, the forest had been cleared, and the space occupied by plantations, where tobacco, peanuts, plantains, yams, and sugar-cane were grown to an extent which makes this a land of plenty where no man starves. Bushes of wild cotton were seen now and then, but not in great numbers.
I was glad that I had reached a country where I should not readily starve – plantains and goats were plentiful. As I stood and cast my eyes over the scene, the yellow waving grass, with now and then a dark green patch in low land between the hills, where water stood, and the cane-fields contrasting with the dark green of the forest, reminded me of rural scenes at home; but I looked in vain for cattle; none were to be seen.
I had a great time at Mouendi; Mandji, its chief, was very kind to me. I had more goats and plantains given to me than my men and myself could eat. The Goumbi people were in great glee; that was just the country for them, and, I may now say it, it was just the country for me also. I was in clover, I thought.
